


We Need to Talk About Leonard

by rat_in_the_pool



Category: Legends of Tomorrow
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-13
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-17 05:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9306758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rat_in_the_pool/pseuds/rat_in_the_pool
Summary: Busting an amnesiac Leonard Snart out of the Legion of Doom...and then dealing with this scary romance business...told in drabbles because if I put too much effort into building the plot I will never post this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I chose that title. I've never seen We Need to Talk About Kevin but I'm p sure this story has nothing to do with it. My placeholder title was Len of Doom. This is hella unbeta'd, I just whipped it the heck out ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I'm flying by the seat of my pants here, y'all...

They were very split when it came to Leonard.

Mick, predictably, was standing by his man. "They've got a hold on him, somehow. We don't know the whole story."

"He shot at us," said Nate. "Pretty sure I get the idea."

"You don't know," Ray said, deviating from his little shadow, for once. "He sacrificed himself for us."

"That's another thing," Jax broke in. "How is he here?! Didn't we all see him go kaboom?"

"It could be an earlier version of him," said Rip. "From before I recruited you all..."

"Which would explain how he recognized Mr. Rory and myself but no one else," finished Stein.

"He wasn't wearing his ring."

Everyone turned to look at her.

Sara had her arms crossed and was leaning on her elbows over the command table. She addressed the table, her face carefully blank, voice flat. "He had a ring," she glanced up at Mick, "from your first job."

The arsonist started. "He left it with me - with his gun. At the Oculus. He never took it off before."

Rip looked at Mick sympathetically. "I'm afraid that may not be significant, Mr. Rory. It may not be him."

"It _is_ him," Mick growled. "We just don't know from when."

"Regardless of when Mr. Snart is from, the one thing we are sure of is that he is in league with the Legion of Doom - "

"Exactly," said Nate.

"One more word, Pretty..."

"- and we cannot let this distract us from our mission which is stopping the Legion at all costs."

"So we're not going to do anything?" Ray said, incredulously.

"This isn't your teammate," Rip snapped. "Not as you knew him."

" _That wouldn't matter to him if it were one of us_ ," Mick thundered. "If it were one of us, even you, _Rip_ ," he popped his lips harshly on the p, "he wouldn't care how you _seemed_ , he wouldn't care what _version_ of you it was, _he wouldn't leave you hanging_."

"That may be true," Rip said. "But this one would."

There was a deafening silence as Mick's gaze seared into the Englishman's.

Then he turned to look at Sara. "Captain?" he asked.

Sara met his gaze. She didn't feel helpless. She didn't feel scared or angry. She didn't feel anything at all.

"The only thing we can be sure of is our mission," she said.

Mick stiffened, eyes wide. After a moment, he walked slowly out of the room, as if dazed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand it's 2 in the morning and I'm too tired to end this on a more hopeful note, I'm so sorry.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People talk some more about Leonard (funny how the title turned out so fitting).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unbeta'd!! We die like men!!!

It wasn't the first time Mick had given her the silent treatment. One time she pulled him out of an underground street brawl in the 80s, wanting to avoid a lecture from Rip when Mick undoubtedly killed someone. That time he'd sulked around the ship, stuffing his face with junk food and shooting her dirty looks whenever she walked into the room. Come to think of it, he may not have meant to give her the cold shoulder at all, his mouth was just always otherwise occupied with some Gideon-fabricated, artery-clogging substance.

Now he wouldn't even meet her eyes.

She walked in on him nearly breaking the training dummy in half in the cargo hold. It was a strange sight, Mick didn't like to box without an opponent, usually. He'd lift weights, take apart and reassemble his gun, or act as the odd demonstration doll when Sara and Amaya were trading moves, but he wasn't one for martial arts. Now, she'd found him pounding away at the dummy, eyes ablaze with desperate rage. He stiffened when he sensed her and glanced her way. He jerked back around when he saw who it was. Panting, he ran a sleeve roughly over his sweaty face and stalked past her. They both averted their gaze.

Sara stood for a few more moments at the door, soured, suddenly, on the prospect of a workout. She turned away and walked down the corridor with the vague idea of sniffing out some of the whiskey Rip hid in his library.

She wasn't ready to apologize, to justify herself. Wasn't ready to even really think about it, certainly not ready to talk about it. She'd been avoiding Rip too because of this, always the first one out the door after briefings and strategy meetings, in case he wanted to thank her for respecting his decision. She usually respected his decisions, they thought a lot alike. They understood that they had to make the tough choices.

God, was she sick of making the tough choices.

Jax, Stein, and Ray were in the library. They stopped talking when Sara walked in.

She sidled over to the bookcase in the silence, letting them stew while she dug around for the bottle. She crossed back to the desk to grab a glass. She poured. Stein coughed.

Finally she raised the glass to her lips, staring them down.

"We were talking about Snart," Ray blurted.

Jax and Stein groaned.

"Seriously, man?" Jax said.

"Hey, she is scary," Ray said.

"Yes, you can endure torture in a Soviet prison, but one look from Ms. Lance and you're singing like her namesake," said Stein.

"What _about_ Snart?" Sara asked.

"We were talking about how he might have survived after the Oculus exploded," Jax said.

"And?" Sara prompted.

"It's possible that he might have reformed at the vanishing point, at the wellspring where the Oculus used to be," Stein said. "But he wouldn't have survived for long there."

"But with the Legion time traveling, like us, they might have been able to pick him up right when he reformed," Ray said.

"So why can't he remember us?" Sara asked.

"Well, his body has been disassembled and re-assembled, I'm sure that must have caused some physical duress, to say the least, so -"

"Getting his brain ripped apart and snapped back together probably jarred some memories loose," Jax concluded.

"Especially since it was ripped apart -"

"Must we be so graphic with our terminology?" Stein muttered.

" - by a device that could view and control all time itself," Ray finished, talking over the Professor.

"But he recognized Mick," Sara said, remembering Leonard's taunt to his partner when he saw him among his opponents. _Don't tell me you went soft on me, Mick_.

"We think it has something to do with all the time jumps. His amnesia is only affecting his memories of his time on the Waverider," Ray said.

Sara sighed and braced herself against the desk, glaring down at her whiskey.

"You want it to be true, Sara," Jax murmured.

"Of course I want it to be true, Jax, that doesn't mean it is," she said. "And what could we even do about it if it was? How could we make him remember?"

"First moments could be a good start," said Stein. "When we were recruited by Mr. Hunter, St. Roche...I suppose last moments might work as well, though they might be harder to imitate."

Something occurs to Sara. Something very stupid. She tries to squash the idea half-formed.

But it stays buzzing at the edge of her thoughts as the boys continue their discussion. As she finishes her whiskey and sends them all to bed to rest up for tomorrow's excitement.

It stays with her through prep the next day. Through their raid on the Legion's base of operations in Italy (circa 1578). Through a clash with Merlyn, Darhk, and the man himself.

And maybe that's why she finds herself zeroing in on Snart during the fight, leaping to knock the blaster out of his hand when he points it at Amaya.

And then it's just them, panting, eyeing each other, oblivious to the brawl waging on around them.

He's in his familiar head to toe black. His eyes are bright from the violence and his mouth is curled into a sneer. Thrilled to be disarmed, to be challenged.

Sara fights off the urge to soak him in and starts in on him with her bow. He blocks the blows, but backs away in the direction she's herding him. She increases her speed, their tempo. Testing him, trying to keep him too occupied to think ahead, to figure out what she's doing. Trying to keep herself from figuring out what she's doing.

She must be effective on both fronts because suddenly they're around the corner of the musty stone hall, and she's got him cornered, his eyes widening at the realization, his movements growing in ferocity.

And then she's on top of him, bow across his chest, breath whooshing out of him with the impact.

She hesitates.

Enough so that he has time to notice.

And as he draws a strangled breath, probably to make some kind of damn quip, Sara does not think.

She does not think at all.

She just kisses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guessed it, I know nothing about science.
> 
> Also, I have no one to talk with about these two on Tumblr, [so come holler at me...please](http://youre-not-a-cat-youre-a-rat.tumblr.com)


End file.
